


shouldn't have opened the door

by hey_you_with_the_face



Series: flash ficlet [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cashier Dean, Crack, Dean thinks Cas is a psycho, I'm not even sure what this is, M/M, Mob Boss Castiel, Pasta salad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 05:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10690902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hey_you_with_the_face/pseuds/hey_you_with_the_face
Summary: Dean opens the door one night to find one of his spookier customers at his door





	shouldn't have opened the door

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone who reads this: I have no clue what this is. I saw a prompt from weekendwritingmarathon on tumblr that had the following dialogue:  
> "Is that...holy shit! Is that blood?!"  
> "I don't know. Could be chocolate syrup. Hey do you have anything to eat?"
> 
> And then this happened.

Dean was unceremoniously awakened by a pounding on his crappy apartment door.

Having just barely gotten to sleep after working until four in the morning at his mind numbingly boring job at Walmart, it took him several minutes to drag his tired body out of bed. He shuffled zombie-like over to the door since it didn’t seem like the numbnuts on the other side of his door was going away.

 _Probably that drunk asshole from 9D again_ , Dean mused to himself as he fumbled with the deadbolt and the chain. _That guy really needs to bother someone else when he’s three sheets to the wind._

“Listen Earl, it's ass o’clock in the morning and I just got off my shift,” Dean started saying before the door was open, his eyes weren’t even open for crying out loud. “Can’t you go and bother someone else just for---?”

It wasn’t drunk old Earl banging on his door.

“Hello, Dean,” the ruggedly handsome man said almost cheerfully. “May I come in?”

Without waiting for an answer, the man gently pushed Dean aside and walked into his apartment, leaving Dean to gape after him. 

What in the fuck was hot psycho guy doing at his house?!

‘Hot psycho guy’ was how Dean privately referred to one of his repeat customers at work. About four nights a week he checked out this, unbelievably attractive, man at his register who was all strong jaw, bright blue eyes and sex hair; hence the ‘hot’ part of his name. 

The ‘psycho’ part was pure speculation on Dean’s part, mainly due to the man’s tendency to buy things like huge garbage bags, rope, gardening tools and corrosive household chemicals. That and the vague sense of danger that seemed to wash off the guy in waves. 

He always came to Dean’s register and would stare at him intensely while Dean rang up and bagged his more than slightly suspicious purchases; sometimes the staring made Dean feel hot and tingly in the best way, other times it made him shiver for less pleasant reasons.

And now hot psycho guy was staring at him from his goddamn living room.

“Listen, I don’t know how you found me but you need to get the hell---” Dean started saying, in the most take-no-shit voice he could manage at the moment considering he was only wearing his underwear. He walked cautiously towards where hot psycho guy was now staring at his bookcase like he’d been invited for tea or some shit but before he got there, the man turned to look at him and what Dean noticed had him freezing on the spot. “Is that----holy shit! Is that blood?!”

Dean’s heart pounded in his chest as the man looked down and saw the massive stain on his dark leather jacket. He shrugged and looked up at him looking extremely unbothered by this.

“I don’t know; it could be chocolate syrup,” the psycho said blithely. He walked past a distinctly panicking Dean over to the kitchen. “Do you happen to have anything to eat? I’ve had a busy night and haven’t had a chance to eat anything.”

He was still asleep; yeah, that was it. The pizza he’d eaten from the fridge had obviously been bad and the subsequent food poisoning and memories from work had lead to this hallucination. 

“Food? You come to my home in the middle of the night, just waltz in without permission, and ask if I have anything to feed you?” Dean asked, his voice cracking slightly in hysteria; he stared at the man with utter disbelief as he rummaged through Dean’s fridge. “I don’t even know who the fuck you are.”

That caused hot psycho guy to pop his head up above the refrigerator door. “Oh, my name is Castiel,” he answered calmly. He held up a bowl of pasta salad. “Do you mind if I eat this? It appears to be the only thing edible in here; you really ought to go grocery shopping more often considering you work in a store.”

For some reason, this insult to his bare-ass fridge was the final straw.

“Okay, okay, that’s it!” Dean exclaimed, waving his arms in front of himself, shaking his head. “I don’t even give a fuck that apparently a psycho followed me home from work and you’re probably going to chop me up and put me in the two for one garbage bags you always buy, you need to get the hell out of my apartment right the hell now!”

Hot psycho guy, Castiel, didn’t even flinch.  
He just stood there, eating steady mouthfuls of Dean’s leftover pasta salad. 

“Psycho? Why would you think I’m a psycho?” he asked after swallowing, looking genuinely curious. 

Well past the point of concern for his own life, Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Oh, like you haven’t been using all the shit you buy to murder people and bury their bodies in the woods. No one needs that many garbage bags in a week.”

Castiel took another bite of pasta salad, chewing thoughtfully. “Well, I will admit to killing people but I’ve never really identified as a psychopath,” he mused before getting right back to eating.

Dean felt his legs turn to jelly.  
Shit...he was going to die wasn’t he?

“Oh, I’m not here to kill you, you know,” Castiel suddenly said, obviously noticing the fact that Dean’s face had gone ashen. “I’ve never killed anyone who hasn’t given me a problem. In fact, I’ll have to find a way to thank you for your kindness.”

“Kindness?” Dean asked, so confused he was actually starting to feel light headed; though that might have been the paralyzing fear. He leaned against the back of the couch, trying to keep on his feet even though his knees threatened to give out on him. “What are you talking about?” A pause as another thought occurred to him. “And why me?”

“Well, I’ve always enjoyed our interactions at the store,” Castiel explained, walking over to the sink with the tupperware container now that he was finished with the food. “After the first few times I’d met you, I had one of the men in my organization do some homework on you. That’s how I knew you lived here.” He finished washing the container and turned to look at him. “As for what kindness I’ll be repaying you for, you’ve given me something to eat and somewhere to hide while the police are searching the streets for whoever killed my business rival.”

Dean felt his jaw drop to the floor and he stared at him. “I did what now?!” he asked incredulously.

What he going to be an accessory to murder? Would the police even believe that he didn’t mean to do it, that the man had just barged into this apartment? No, he was going to end up in prison; probably in the same damn cell as the psycho in front of him.

Suddenly a loud beeping echoed through the room, freaking Dean the fuck out and making him feel like all his limbs had turned to jello. The sound turned out to be Castiel’s cell phone; he took the device out of his pocket, checked it and sent a text before slipping it back in his pocket.

“As much as I’d love to say and talk to you outside of your place of employment,” Castiel said casually as he walked out of the kitchen and towards Dean; Dean twitched, fearing that he’d have to try and fight the man off, but Castiel just went to the front door. “I’m afraid I must be going; I’ll probably see you sometime next week when I do my shopping.”

He turned the doorknob and, with a small wave, went to leave the apartment.

“Who in the ever loving fuck are you?” Dean blurted out, unable to stop himself. This was all madness anyway and he wanted to at least know what kind of person did...this! “You said you weren’t a psycho so what the hell are you then?”

Castiel paused in the threshold, giving Dean a once over that made him _very_ aware he was only in his boxer briefs. “I’m a mob boss,” he said perfunctorily, throwing in a smug smile. “See you soon, Dean.”

The door shut firmly, leaving Dean standing in his dark apartment, wondering just how fucked up his life was going to be now.

**Author's Note:**

> I just might add to this if I get bored (though who am I kidding, of course I'll get bored eventually). I've always wanted to write a crime boss Cas fic.
> 
> And I totally just realized this is the first thing I've posted on here rated Teen and what seems to be my first crack fic. Huh, interestong, haha :)


End file.
